Finishing School
by I-Shot-The-Priest
Summary: Hermione, frustrated and upset with her appearance goes to seek out Blaise Zabini for help. Along the way, old enemies reunite and is there a spot of Romance?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any other related works that is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros Studios. This piece of work is a spin-off and my own work; I do not own the characters or anything to do with the World of Harry Potter, only the story line is mine. **

((This is my first piece of Fan-fiction, I apologise sincerely if it is bad))

* * *

**Chapter 1 - The Problem**

Hermione sighed; she honestly didn't know what the big deal with dressing up was. Why was it so important? She emerged from the bathroom and presented herself to the 2 ladies waiting inside her room.

"Hermione, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?"

Now, Hermione had never really cared for fashion and being overly materialistic had no interest to her, but at the very least she liked to think she knew what suited her and what looked good, however her best-friend Ginevra Weasley disagreed. Hermione suppressed a wince and schooled her expression, trying to take in what Ginny was telling her.

"… skirt is disgusting, and 'Mione you're trying to use a belt but quite simply it's atrocious." Ginny finished her judgement, exhaling in frustration between her lips and running a hand through her hair. She knew Hermione had missed the first half of her rant and pursed her lips in frustration, not feeling in the mood to repeat herself.

The fact was that Hermione's tastes were different than Ginny's in the sense that she was more conservative, although in Ginny's opinion this translated as boring and ever so slightly prudish. Ginny, always being very comfortable in her skin always wore an array of bright colours (providing they didn't clash with her hair, any sometimes even if they did) and wasn't above experimenting with bold and daring styles even if they did make her look more trashy than classy, as was often the case.

Lavender had been nodding throughout Ginny's rant and made her way over to Hermione's closet, trying to find something. She fished out a brown skirt and white tank top.

"Here, put these on." She handed the clothes over to Hermione, but not before spelling the skirt to a revolting Pinky Purple colour and simultaneously shortening and tightening it. Hermione nodded and slipped back into the bathroom, squirming uncomfortably in the skirt which looked to be more appropriate for a Barbie doll than her. She pasted a grimace onto her face and presented herself to her friends, spinning around so they could judge her again.

"I guess that'll have to do." Ginny exhaled, eyeing Hermione's hair and make-up free face. "Come on now, we need to go or otherwise we'll be late." She stood up and exited Hermione's bedroom with Lavender on her tail.

Hermione sighed; most times they went out as a group this happened, her fashion taste and appearance were mocked by fellow females of the group, leaving her feeling disjointed from them. Was it really a problem that her appearance wasn't her utmost concern? For Circe's sake, it hadn't mattered at all when she was growing up - while other girls had been learning how to do make up and everything else teenage girls did, she'd instead been learning spells and perfecting her wand work so that when came the time to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters she could kick some serious ass and she had.

Lavender and Ron had restarted dating about a year ago and they seemed to be going strong. After the war (which was nearly 2 years ago), both had matured and their relationship appeared more serious now, with silly nicknames and clingy behaviour a thing of the past. Well, not completely but nearly.

She collapsed onto her bed, not enjoying the way that she could feel her duvet cover underneath her thighs but knowing that an argument would be fruitless and would end up putting Ginny in a worse mood. She tried to run her fingers through her hair but gave up when they got caught half way down the back of her head. A gasp escaped her lips as a ring on her finger got tangled on a sizable chunk of hair, frustration bubbled inside her, wondering -not for the first time- why genetics had given her such an unmanageable mass of bushy hair, and not something more like Ginny's straight locks.

She untangled the ring from her hair and exited her apartment, reapplying the wards and locking the door. She apparated away to the bar they usually hang out and tried to keep a smile on her face for the evening.

The next morning Hermione rolled out of her bed clutching her head, trying to ignore the brightness of the sunlight or the loudness of the owl knocking on her head however unsuccessfully. She trudged over to the window, letting the owl come through and then deposit Daily Prophet on her bed before screeching and flying away. She grabbed the paper and stumbled down the stairs, regretting her alcohol consumption of the night before; if she were being completely honest the final round(s) of shots weren't really necessary. Through bleary eyes she eventually found her way to the medicine cabinet and took out a Hangover Potion and made her way to the kitchen.

The tea that had 3 sugars too many warmed her hands and contained the Hangover Potion that after a few sips was clearing away her headache and leaving behind a string of horrible, cringe worthy memories. In truth she had drunk so much because she was still feeling shitty after what the girls had said and done at her apartment and had wanted distraction from it. Really, nobody liked to be told they had bad fashion taste, what made her so different. Again, wanting distraction, she opened the newspaper, skimming through the pages until she saw it. A little, brightly coloured advertisement in the corner of one of the pages, not out of place considering that this was the beauty page of advertisements, but to Hermione none of the rest mattered. This was it, the answer to her problem. Because really, if her situation was making her feel this shit and caused her to drink so heavily, it definitely was a problem.

* * *

So, this was the first Chapter, any thoughts? If so, would you pretty please leave it in the comments. Reviews help me to get better and improve my work, thank you. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Reuniting with an old friend**

She immediately whistled for her owl and after penning a quick note sent off the owl. Hermione jumped up from her table with vigour and after draining her tea, rushed upstairs to get ready. After showering and towelling her hair, Hermione slipped on the suit she wore to work and a black pair of flat slip-on work shoes. She left the apartment and apparated to work, wanting to get started as early as possible so that she could get to her meeting with the man who she had messaged earlier. She knew it would be possible as the letter was marked 'Urgent' and really, nobody ignored an 'urgent' message from Hermione Granger.

It was nearly 2 hours later when Hermione received the reply, instructing her to meet with him at 3 o'clock precisely as he would not wait if she were late.

Hermione smiled at the note and busied herself with work, only stopping to look at the clock every so often. She surprised herself when, after working on a particularly long and troublesome case, she looked up and saw to her horror that she had 15 minutes to get to her meeting. Immediately she neatened and stacked her files and sent an interdepartmental memo to her supervisor, informing him that she had finished her work early, had already started the cases for next week, and was taking the rest of the day off.

Hermione opened up the Floo in her office and grabbed the Floo Powder, enunciating "Zabini Offices" very clearly before she disappeared.

On the other side of the Floo, Hermione appeared and after dusting herself off she stepped into the hallway, checking her wristwatch and almost cursing as she realised she had about 5 minutes to get to her meeting. She found the entrance desk quickly enough, although the utterly incompetent and irritating receptionist demanded her utmost patience until she told her in all seriousness that she had an appointment with Blaise Zabini and needed to see him urgently. The bimbo pointed her through a set of doors and Hermione stormed through them, coming to a smaller room which had an array of doors leading from it, the door nearest to her informing her that the office inside belonged to a Mr Blaise Zabini.

She turned the handle and strode in, closing the door behind her as she tried to find the company's owner. Spotting him at his desk with a raised eyebrow, she marched over, placed her hands firmly on the desk and looked him straight in the eye before she opened her mouth.

"Blaise Zabini, make me pretty."

"Beg your pardon, what did you say?" Zabini asked, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face, shock at seeing her, surprise at her request and then confusion as it sunk in, if sh were to name a few.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, you run a Finishing School." Zabini nodded "Which aims to 'teach women the finer arts of social graces." Again Zabini's head nodded. "I presume, as is traditional, one of the classes the girls learn is about appearance and how to present themselves in such a way that an an aura of grace is maintained." Zabini's head stilled for a moment before nodding slowly, and Hermione had the suspicion that he knew what she was going to ask. "And, I want to enrol." She finished, looking at him directly once again, having shifted her gaze while speaking.

Zabini nodded again thoughtfully, he raised himself to his feet and rubbed his chin. "Why me, why my company? And why now Granger?"

"I'm going to be 21 in September and with the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts is in 3 months and I feel as if I've let down the younger me by not caring as overly about my appearance and I want that to change." Hermione paused. "And you're the best finishing school there is, besides I wouldn't trust anyone else."

Blaise considered her response, nodding before replying. "I'll accept that for now Granger, but you'll have to tell me the truth eventually." He studied her face. "I think you almost forget how close we became in our seventh year, the retake year. I know when you lie Granger, it's almost impossible to fool a Slytherin." He half-smirked half-smiled at her.

_In their Seventh year at Hogwarts, which Blaise had dubbed the 'retake year', Hermione had returned without Harry and Ron,similairly Blaise_ without Draco or Pansy. In their Potions Class, both had found themselves without a partner and had decided one lesson towards the beginning of term to try working_ together. The first Potion they had made together, the Angel's Trumpet Draught had been 'one of the best' that Slughorn had ever seen. The duo, impressed with the other's skill, continued to work together, their partnership venturing across into all classes that they had together._

_Over time, the pair began to see each other outside of classes and formed an easy friendship which was encouraged by the Professors as the sight of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin getting along so well together promoted the idea of House Unity. After the war, the school were trying to ease the tensions between the students and Houses, and so House Unity Sessions had been implemented. Initially the friendship had gained some uncomfortable remarks and comments, insinuating that the pair was shagging or that their friendship was wrong considering the differences in Blood Status._

_Such comments made __the pair feel awkward__ awkward, considering that Blaise was gay and his family had fled to Italy in an attempt to escape the war. The Wizarding World, after the war, was having a hard enough time eradicating all Pro-Pureblood laws and establishing the newly emerging equality between all Blood Types. Homophobia was still a large issue that caused controversy among Witches and Wizards, so Blaise had decided to keep being gay a secret until it was safer for him to come out and was only telling people that he deemed appropriate to tell._

_The conversation had been weird to say the least. Hermione had come back to the Library where she and Blaise were meeting with puffy red eyes and flushed cheeks. Blaise, noticing something was wrong rushed to her side and took her face within his hands._

"_Granger, what's wrong? Did someone say something? If they did, I'll kill them." Blaise threatened, the memory of a Ravenclaw 6__th__ Year insulting her last week still burnt angrily in his mind._

"_Blaise, no, it's nothing. I'm just being silly; it wasn't anything to get upset about." She tried to pry his fingers from her face, but he held onto her tighter._

"_Hermione, tell me. I've told you before you can't lie to me, you're face gives it all away." He tried to smile, but found himself unable to push his lips past a grimace. _

"_Blaise." She sighed. "It was Michael Corner. He was asking if I'd shagged you yet, or if he should send a congratulations card, because the only reason you would want me around for so long would be if we were shagging constantly or if I was pregnant." A few more tears slipped down her cheeks and hit his fingers. _

"_Do you not want me? Is that it? It didn't want to start thinking about it, but am I that physically repulsive that you wouldn't want me?" Her cheeks burnt underneath his hands and Blaise couldn't help but soften internally at the way she looked so unguarded in his hands. He quickly pulled her to him, and Hermione misunderstanding what was happening, pressed her lips to Blaise's. Blaise stiffened immediately and pulled away. _

"_Hermione, I'm gay." He decided to tell her quickly, before she could say anything more and get more upset. Hermione's face paled and she swore under her breath. _

"_Well, I guess my gaydar is way off then." She attempted a joke, but upon seeing his look of confusion, explained it was a Muggle saying. _

_He sat her down and explained his predicament to her, and to his relief Hermione understood immediately and neither mentioned the kiss ever again. _

"Fine." She huffed. "Will you let me? Uh, enrol?" She further clarified. The duo had separated after their time at Hogwarts and correspondence between them was sparse, the last time Hermione had heard from Blaise he had thought of opening up a company but at the time she hadn't known what for.

"I had my answer the moment you walked through the door." He smirked. "Yes, Granger I'll make you pretty, ignore that beautiful. In fact, I'll do it personally. Merlin knows how long I've wanted to get my hands on your hair." Hermione blushed as she toyed with a strand and his smirk deepened.

"The course usually lasts 6 weeks, but seeing as we have 3 months until the Anniversary of the War, we'll use that time frame instead. I need you to take the next 3 months off from work, use up the holiday time from last year and this year." Hermione nodded, blushing as it was apparently so obvious that she had holiday time carried over.

"When do we start, and how much should I have the goblins transfer to your account?" She asked, a smile on her face as she realised that things would be ok and that they'd be worked out.

"Next week, and don't worry about the cost, we'll figure that out later." He smiled. "Be prompt on Monday morning and Floo to the Zabini Manor, don't bother coming here." He informed.

She smiled and thanked him repeatedly, giving him a hug before leaving. He eyed her outfit as she left, nose wrinkling as she took in the unflattering shape of her suit and Merlin's beard were her shoes ghastly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - The First Step(s) on the Process of becoming an Lady**

Monday couldn't seem to come quickly enough for Hermione and the weekend it seemed, dragged on. Her neighbour had been gracious about looking after Crookshanks while she was away on 'Holiday', considering that the elderly woman hated the cat. She informed work of her absence, her supervisor had joked that it would be nice to be rid of her for a while, that she deserved it and that she should enjoy herself. Hermione had laughed and smiled when appropriate, her mind wandering away to ponder if she would be different when she returned and if so, how different?

So when Hermione's alarm went off, signalling the arrival of 8AM Monday morning, contrary to the consensus mood, Hermione couldn't have been happier. Quickly jumping into the shower she shampooed her hair and washed her body, drying herself in a rushed manner before changing into the prepared jean and jumper outfit. She grabbed a slice of toast from the toaster and when the owl delivering the Daily Prophet arrived, she informed it where to send her post. After washing down the toast with a glass of Peach Juice and brushing her teeth she was ready by 9 o'clock.

Before she left, Hermione secured the wards around her flat and checked everything to make sure it was ok. Turning around to face the Floo, she pronounced "Zabini Manor" carefully before stepping into the green flames. After Harry's disappearance from the Burrow to Knocturn Alley instead of Diagon Alley, she had always been extra careful with her pronunciation for fear she may end up somewhere other than her intended destination.

Hermione dusted herself off and lifted her head to meet the eyes of Blaise Zabini.

After the war and the repeat of 7th Year, Blaise's mother had had the ingenious idea of opening up a Finishing School for young witches across the continent. Of course, the prices for such an academy were ridiculously high but the Zabini matriarch had argued that if the Wizarding families really wanted their daughters to become respectable and formidable women in society then they should pay the price respectable for women of such stature. Currently, the majority of students were pureblooded, but there were the occasional halfbloods whose bloodline had only been sullied by their parents or grandparents and still had money in the family vaults. This was predominately because of the corruption in the Ministries across Europe and banks like Gringotts, pureblood families had traditionally received bonuses from the Ministries for their 'outstanding work' on upholding magic and magical tradition and their vaults always received higher interest rates than other blood types. Pureblood families, which had become 'sullied' with Muggle or Muggle-born blood were often stripped of such bonuses, had parts of their wealth taken away and would have their vaults transferred to ones with lower interest rates as they had 'defied' Wizarding moral values.

Blaise thought the whole thing was disgusting, but this was what had led to Hermione becoming the first Muggleborn student at 'The Zabini Finishing Academy for Young Witches'. Blaise's mother was on her honeymoon with Husband No#5 and if her letters were any indication she wouldn't be back until the autumn, leaving Blaise in charge.

"Miss Granger, you will address me as Mr Zabini during our lessons. Please come this way." Blaise spoke in a clear, sharp tone and turned on his heel, walking away at a brisk pace that he expected Hermione to follow. He led her into the Drawing Room and motioned to the couch for her to take a seat. As she sat down, he noticed the way that she bounced as she sat down, which had cause the couch to squeak. She crossed one knee over the other and leaned forward, he could barely stop the scowl crossing his features. He was strictly in work mode, and he could see that he had a long way ahead of him. That wasn't to say that Hermione wasn't a lady, she was certainly polite and courteous, he had taken note of this and instead critiqued her posture, understanding that he would have to work primarily on the way in which she conducted herself and her appearance.

"Miss Granger, uncross your legs and instead cross your ankles. Lesson 1..." He instructed her and only continued once she had followed her orders. "A lady never exposes herself indecently; in crossing your legs with one knee over the other you draw attention to your upper thighs. Thighs should not be drawn attention to, and shouldn't be seen by anyone other than your lover or if you are in a bathing suit. By crossing your ankles you instead appear poised and refined with no part of your body appearing indecently exposed."

Hermione blinked and stored the information, becoming more aware of the way she sat. Immediately, she straightened her spine and placed her hands delicately in her lap and titled her ankles, which not only made her legs appear more graceful and lean but was also more comfortable.

"Thank you Mr Zabini."

"You're very welcome Miss Granger. I am currently having House Elves transfer your belongings to a Guest Bedroom and tomorrow we shall examine your wardrobe, until then I invite you to some tea. He gestured towards the tea service next to the coffee table between them and watched her reactions.

She looked down at the assortment in front of her, on a silver tray lay a china set which consisted of a: teapot, creamer for the milk, sugar bowl, pitcher of hot water, plate of lemons and 2 sets of cups, saucers and spoons. She reached out her hand to reach for the teapot when she felt the light burn of a stinging hex and retracted her hand away sharply, hissing as the skin began to swell and take on an angry, red, scorched appearance.

"Miss Granger, the correct time for tea, teatime if you will is between the hours of 2 in the afternoon and 5. What I was asking you to do was improper of me as you are neither a 'pourer' nor guardian of the teapot, as I am the host and in our party there is no one else for the role to fall to, the duty would fall to me." He finished and looked at her curiously.

Hermione was examining the tips of her fingers closely and wincing as she traced the outlines of her now scorched fingertips.

"Mr Zabini." She scowled. "Was the Stinging Hex necessary?" She looked petulantly up at him, soon returning her attention to her finger tips.

"No, I apologise Miss Granger, let me?" He gestured towards her fingers and she hesitantly extended them, he procured his wand and mumbled a very light incantation, Hermione felt the effects of the spell at once and a light, cooling charm settled onto her hand.

"Thank you." She muttered, still somewhat sourly that she had been hurt.

"You're welcome Miss Granger. For the remainder of the day, I shall take you on a tour of the Manor, and lessons shall be resumed tomorrow." He took note of her now subdued mood and understood that her lack of excitement coincided with the incident, remembering the way that she would do the same thing at Hogwarts if reprimanded by a teacher.

For the rest of the day, Blaise did show her around the Manor, spending more time than was strictly necessary when reaching the Library because although Blaise was in work mode and wanted Hermione to excel in becoming a sophisticated young women, he understood when his friend needed a little bit of a pick-me-up.

Dinner was served at 8 o'clock, although he informed her that the time for dinner wasn't as selective as the time for tea and could be eaten anytime after, providing it was appropriate. He showed her the way a formal table would be set, but assured her that because they were a small party they would not be needing all of the utensils and that in an actual setting they mightn't all be used. Then, when it was their turn to eat, he was surprised and rejoiced the way she was able to use each piece of equipment for the right course and generally behaved well. Of course he had known that Hermione wasn't a slob, but he didn't known whether such things were taught in Muggle families as they were custom to in Pureblood ones. He questioned her about all the utensils they had, before the food had arrived and was please to hear her correctly name all of the utensils and at the end of the meal proved her knowledge of napkin etiquette as when he placed his on the left of his plate signifying the end of the meal, she reciprocated with her own. She placed the soiled side of the napkin facing downwards so as to not show the soiled linens to her host. When he ventured down to her side of the table she graciously took his arm and after his declaration of Lessons being over for the day he felt her relax more comfortably into him. He led them into the Music Room, flicking his wand toward the instruments at the other end of the room and shortly afterward a gentle, laid-back tune filled the silence of the room. A couch was situated at their end of the room and he led them over to it, allowing her to sit next to him with her legs crossed as they watched the instruments play, appearing as if they had invisible musicians playing them.

"Thank you for everything you've done today." Hermione smiled at Blaise. "Seriously, it's been great and I'm really looking forward to the next 3 months."

"You just wait until we go through your wardrobe tomorrow, you won't be thanking me then." He replied smirking at her.

"Ugh…Why did you have to remind me?" She groaned and hid her face in her hands. "In all seriousness, please don't be too harsh about my clothing. It isn't something I spend too much time on but please just be a little considerate when you're judging everything." She continued, looking up at him with an expression reminiscent of the one that crossed her face during their library talk in 7th year when he revealed he was gay.

He sensed an underlying insecurity that Hermione was trying to cover up, but not wanting to call her out on it, he replied. "Yes, I promise. Don't worry too much about it; just consider it a learning experience as part of the training to become a Lady." He smiled and poked her waist. "So, any men you've got your eye on? Any man you've deemed worthy of taking your virtue?" He cheeked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione blushed, her face taking on a colour similar to the Weasley hair.

"Shut up Blaise, we don't need everyone to know I'm still a virgin, and no. Absolutely no men are worthy of my innocence, I shall stay a virgin forever." Hermione proclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in an attempt to give her theatrical claim some validity to her point.

Blaise chuckled. "You know as part of the course, you need take part and learn about the courting process. I'd offer to do it myself but you need to know what it'd be like for a man, who was actually interested in women, to try vying for your attentions. Plus it means then that I can give you advice on the dating process and how to proceed, should you be interested."

"What? Why didn't you tell me? Wha..." Blaise cut off Hermione's questions by silencing her with his wand.

"I'll answer questions about it nearer to the time, there's no need to fret about it now. Beside, once you've finished the course, every man will be dying to get their hands on you so I'd absolutely hate to hear that you remain a virgin for the rest of your life, it'd be such a tragic waste of my talents." Blaise grumbled as she hit his chest.

"Hey I was kidding, slightly, seriously though Granger, you can't close isolate yourself from the possibility of finding someone and love. I know if I had I'd regret it." Hermione considered his statement.

"Are you trying to tell me something Mr Zabini?" Hermione cheeked. "Is there anyone you've got your eye on?" Hermione smiled as she saw a light blush dance across the Italian's cheeks. "Who is it?"

"Theodore Nott." Came Blaise's muffled reply and Hermione squealed with joy, happy that her friend had found someone.

"Oh wow, really? I'm so happy for you. How long have you been together?" Hermione hugged him, letting him know that she really was genuinely happy for him.

Blaise laughed. "We've been dating for a few months, we're keeping it low key until we can come out and be public about it." It was rare for the Slytherin to let so much emotion out on his face, but Hermione was happy to see it.

Hermione's smile broadened, she decided to let her friend reveal her new relationship to her over time and didn't wasn't to push him, understanding that the significance of him telling her this early on. So changing the topic, she joked "What's with he hottest guys in our year being gay is there none left for the women? I mean who next, Draco Malfoy?"

Blaise's eyes widened. "Do my ears deceive me? You, the Gryffindor Bookworm Extraordinaire, thought the Slytherin boys were good-looking?" He asked, studying Hermione's expressions intently.

"Are you kidding? It was one of the most popular topics of conversation during 5th Year: how hot the Slytherin boys were. My fellow dorm members spent many a night discussing how attractive our main 'rival' house was." She paused briefly, watching the revelation sink in.

"I mean it wasn't going to be the Gryffindor boys, I mean I love all of the guys but they're like my brothers and that's gross. Then were the Hufflepuffs, they weren't quite as attractive as the Slytherins or the Ravenclaws and so they received third place. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were close, but Slytherin ended out on top because although intelligence is a superbly attractive quality, they were all just a little bit 'Vanilla' and sometimes painfully boring." She dismissed the Houses, crossing them off with her finger.

"Now, boring is something you definitely didn't get with the Slytherins, I mean the whole 'bad boy', 'dark wizard' thing that your house had going on was really very hot." Hermione had been counting down the houses on her fingers and as each finger had dismissed, the colour in her cheeks darkened. Blaise smirked, enjoying the former Gryffindor's embarrassment and spiel about the hotness of his House.

"Blaise Zabini, I can see this going straight to you're ego. I'm tempted to try arguing with you or try deflating the ego, but I'm too tired, so I shall see you in the morning and hopefully forget I ever told you your house was the hottest." She smiled and waved goodnight before leaving the room and travelling the distance to hers. Blaise listened intently to her receding footsteps, only relaxing when he heard her door close.

His smirk widened into a smile, indeed the revelation that his House was the hottest did fuel his ego, but his smile was less to do with his looks and more to do with his friend's love life as he could almost see the pieces of the puzzle fit together.


End file.
